


turn around and see me cry

by multicorn



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multicorn/pseuds/multicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after he sings ‘against all odds,’ blaine tells kurt.  angst ensues.  (kurt is sad and nothing happens, the end.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn around and see me cry

Even now, when Kurt only talks with Blaine for a little while on the phone every few days, one of the things they always tell each other is what songs they’ve sung recently.  Theirs is a relationship started out by songs, measured in them, and when they don’t have many words for each other a simple word or phrase brings to mind many more from someone else’s pen.  Sometimes it’s a giddy, happy game - I love that one! - I know! - and sometimes it’s awkward, because of memories, but they’ve been getting better at navigating past those without allowing the past to bleed through.

Tonight Kurt settles back onto his bed, phone against his ear, and asks, “so what crowd-pleasing number did you wow the New Directions with this week?”

“I played Against All Odds on the piano on the stage,” Blaine says, and Kurt’s lips slide into a smile to answer the smile he hears in Blaine’s voice.

“So you’re coming out about your love for Phil Collins, finally?”

“Well, you know, it’s almost the end of high school.  I don’t feel like I have much shame left anymore,” says Blaine.

Kurt laughs.  “I could tell that much when I was there for the wedding,” he says, and Blaine laughs too, and then, because it’s almost a reflex, Kurt can’t help but ask, “who were you singing for?” and Blaine goes stutteringly silent.

“You don’t want to know,” he says, and Kurt’s heart skips a beat.

“Oh.”

“So, how about you?  Have the Apples finally started a new number yet?” Blaine continues, oblivious-sounding, and Kurt supposes it’s nice, but -

“I need to go,” he says abruptly, “Rachel’s calling,” even though she isn’t, the rest of the apartment is silent in fact, but he feels like he might be about to start screaming any moment, and he’d rather not do it on the phone.

“Okay,” says Blaine, “I’ll talk to you later,” and Kurt hits the call end button, doesn’t even wait to say anything else.  Because he knows that song….

He puts the phone down on his nightstand, and rolls over, face pressing into his pillow as if he could somehow just merge with it in fluffy forgetful pillow nirvana.  He knows  _Blaine_  singing that song; they used to play together with the saddest songs that each of them loved, things they didn’t feel at the time, facsimiles of heartbreak that somehow made sweeter the kisses around the panted out  _I’d never make you feel that way - I know, I know -_

He remembers Blaine singing  _just an empty space_  once last spring before they fought, before Blaine actually stopped singing songs like that for a while, and marveling at how good of an actor his boyfriend was.

And now - he tries, but he can’t remember Blaine’s words exactly - but still, Blaine wouldn’t tell him who he was singing for.  Why?  Is it Kurt, and he’s still hurting Blaine that badly?  Because he doesn’t want to, really, he’s not a bad person, and anyway thinking of Blaine hurt at all hurts him too -

But maybe he is a bad person, because the alternative hurts so much worse.  He’s not with Blaine anymore, they’re just friends, Blaine has every right to move on in the world.  But he thinks of Blaine pining hopelessly over another boy - he thinks of Blaine  _not_  pining over him - and something fragile and scarred in his heart breaks again, and he screams noiselessly into the muffling bulk of the bed.

He thought - for some reason, he’d still thought - that Blaine still loved him.  He didn’t have to, of course, Kurt understands well enough that when you break up with someone there are no obligations there, and maybe the break up had showed him that love was never quite what he’d thought it was.  But Blaine  _had_ still loved him, he could swear, on the ice at Christmas, in the car and the dance floor and that damnable hotel room on Mr. Schue’s aborted wedding day.  So what has he even  _done_  since then?

Did Blaine just get tired of waiting after all?

Kurt burrows helplessly into the bed, and tries to will himself to sleep, to forgetfulness, to thinking only and ever of fabric and songs.  He could call Blaine back, and ask - what do you mean, do you still want me - but he picks up his phone to text Tina instead.

_Who was Blaine singing for in Glee club today?_  he asks, and it must not be too late, becuase he gets an answer almost immediately.

_Sam y?_

He puts the phone back down - he doesn’t need to answer her, he doesn’t care - and rolls back into his bed.  There’s no hiding.

And he’d given up on Blaine before, or he thought he had, so this shouldn’t hurt so much.  But every time, every time, it’s an almost physical pain, worse than punches that cut his lip on his teeth or the sharp corners of lockers.  Maybe he’s really done now, maybe it’ll stop soon, he doesn’t know.  Everything in him cries out for Blaine, Blaine, to love me again, and he tries to silence it ruthlessly - 

_He won’t.  Give up._

But he just doesn’t know  _how._


End file.
